Midnight Encounters
by 142staircases
Summary: It all began with a strong desire for milk and the need to compulsively organize the refrigerator. Oneshot.


It all began with a strong desire for milk and the need to compulsively organize the refrigerator.

It was well past midnight on September 12, 1978 and Gerald Evans, father of Lily and Petunia, had just passed away. He had fallen asleep behind the wheel of his car and had driven into the middle of a traffic intersection when he shouldn't have. Gerald joined his wife, Ellen, in the graveyard near their family home in Surrey and Lily—who had not seen her sister since their mother had died the previous Christmas—came home for a few days to be present for the burial and the festivities that surrounded it.

Naturally, she didn't want to face Petunia and Vernon on her own—not just after her father had died. And so James was invited to stay with her. Petunia had unceremoniously offered him the couch in the salon on which to sleep (the guest room was occupied by Vernon's sister Marge and the master bedroom was left empty to honor the deceased). But each night, when James could hear two sets of snoring from upstairs, he would ascend to Lily's room and climb into her twin-sized bed with her. At least, that was what he had done for the past two days.

Petunia and Vernon had been out of the house at lunch, and so Lily and James had been left to their own devices. They had sex, and then made themselves sandwiches.

"Egad," said James. "This refrigerator is disgusting!"

"I know," said Lily. "Dad was never good at organizing food, and I doubt very much that Petunia wanted to deal with it just yet. She likes to organize things, and clean them, but…"

"It's revolting."

"Yes, quite."

But Lily and James closed the refrigerator, and went for a walk after lunch and didn't think twice about it.

At least, Lily didn't think twice about it.

James was, as I am sure you all have gathered from your readings, a very unusual fellow.

He was a firm believer in the "if you can see the floor, my room is not dirty!" philosophy, and spent most of his time putting off the necessary act of cleaning out his closet. He was, for all intents and purposes, a complete and utter slob.

But there was one thing that was sacred to him: the refrigerator. There was no way that food could be treated the same way as, say, his underwear. No. No. Food needed to be lovingly contained in a highly organized and very clean environment.

And so, when he could hear the two sets of grumbling snores from upstairs on September 12, 1978, he rose from the couch and stole into the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and began to work.

*

Petunia Evans was heartbroken when her father died. She had been heartbroken when her mother died as well, but there was something so final about daddy's death: she was an orphan. The only other Evans left in the world was Lily, and she wasn't at all ready to deal with that harsh reality.

Lily came home for the funeral. She looked very sad, but there was a color in her cheeks that had not been there when their mum had died and Petunia had a shrewd suspicion it had something to do with the bespectacled man who was standing behind her when they interred Gerald Evans.

James Potter. She had heard about him. In days of yore, Lily had done nothing but rant about how much she loathed 'that cretin.' Now, she stood, leaning her head against his shoulder with his arms wrapped lovingly around her midriff.

Petunia had not addressed more than one sentence to him: the one sentence was the assignment of a bed, or rather, a couch in the living room. He had nodded and said "Thank you very much, Petunia." She knew that he snuck up to Lily's room each night. They came down together every morning and he looked particularly tousle-haired.

Their father would not have approved.

The nerve of her, really. Bringing home that…that…good-for-nothing! She and Marge spent a good hearty gossip session bemoaning Lily and Potter over lunch, while Vernon interjected wise comments about how he was quite the worst possible boyfriend. The only thing that could be said for him was that he was better than that slimy, oily, horrid boy Snake (she thought his name was).

In the very early hours of September 12, 1978, Petunia was still awake. She had had a rather awful dream: she had been running through the woods and suddenly, she stumbled upon Lily, who was wearing a white wedding gown and who said, upon catching sight of Petunia, 'Oh, Tuney! I'm so glad you could make it! I had hoped you would be my maid of honor, but I didn't know how you would feel about that, what with…well…" Lily had glanced down to look at Petunia's feet. Petunia had looked as well and was horrified to see that her slim, perfect ankles had been replaced by the most horrid of cankles!

Petunia started awake, breathing very hard. She tossed and turned, but could not fall back asleep, because Vernon's snores were too loud (usually she fell asleep before him…).

It was nearly two in the morning.

A glass of milk would be lovely.

So she got up (checked on her ankles), and scurried downstairs, careful to skip the step that creaked near the bottom.

There was a dim light coming from the kitchen.

What on earth…?

"What _are_ you doing?" she hissed.

James Potter whipped around, his wand raised. There was a tiny sphere of light at the end of it. He lowered the wand hastily.

"You shouldn't sneak up on a wizard with a wand," he whispered.

"What are you doing?" she moved closer to him.

"I'm…" He gestured towards the refrigerator. "I'm organizing your refrigerator."

That stunned Petunia.

"What?"

"I'm organizing your refrigerator. I noticed that it was a bit…hectic and I figured I'd help out a little…to thank you for letting me crash on your couch."

Petunia laughed scornfully. She doubted very much that this was the truth. "You don't sleep on the couch. You go up to Lily's room and…and…"

"Keep her company. Yes I do. Because her dad just died and she's a bit torn up, something I doubt you've noticed." His tone, which had been so gentle and nice before, was now accusatory.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"Step away from my refrigerator."

"No. I haven't finished yet."

"Step away now, please."

"Make me."

Petunia gaped at him. She had dealt with immaturity before. She had dealt with maturity before. But she had never seen the shift from maturity to immaturity happen so swiftly as just now, when James Potter had gone from protective, loving boyfriend to petulant child in the space of fifteen seconds.

"I would prefer it if you did not organize my refrigerator, thank you very much."

"Well, you weren't doing it."

"I have had other things on my mind."

"I gathered as much. Which was why I took it upon myself to perform the act which you had not yet had the opportunity to do."

"Well, if you would step away now, I will finish it for you."

"I think that I should finish what I started."

"I think you should leave me to my refrigerator."

"What did you come down here for?"

"What?"

"What did you come down for?"

"I…I wanted a glass of milk."

James waved his wand twice. The first time, a cup floated onto the counter from a shelf. The second time, a bottle of milk poured milk into the cup. He handed Petunia the glass of milk.

She gaped at him.

"I believe a 'thank you' is in order."

"Thank you," stammered Petunia.

"Go back to bed, Petunia. It's late. You have undergone an emotional upheaval in the past week and you deserve some rest."

Petunia, still shocked, turned around and went upstairs again.

James returned to the refrigerator. Ten minutes later, he closed it and climbed the stairs to Lily's room.

*

Petunia slept late the next day, something she had not been allowed to do in a very long time. She missed Lily and James' departure.

When she awoke, she went downstairs to make herself some coffee.

She opened the refrigerator.

It was impeccable. It glistened and gleamed.

Petunia never told anyone where she learned to organize a refrigerator. She didn't think she would have been able to bear it.


End file.
